


You make me feel like Christmas

by EmeraldFondue



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Optimism, anne vs santa, best christmas movie debate, christmas angst and positivity, everyone also feels very loved by their friends, everyone mourns differently and that's okay, gremlins vs polar express, looking out for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldFondue/pseuds/EmeraldFondue
Summary: Anna and Katherine notice how their friends handle Christmas, a fairly children-centric holiday in the 21st Century. Memories and emotions are prone to bubbling up at that time of year, so they’re making sure everyone is dealing somehow. Hopefully being with their newfound family is enough to comfort from what they lost.AKA a little exploration of how Aragon, Boleyn, Seymour, and Parr handle not having their children around for the holidays. Beware of some grief (not too deep, we're not here for angst this time of year), although this is very hopeful and soft instead! We’re in the optimistic Christmas mood y’all!
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	You make me feel like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I got a little caught up in this and do tend to get lost in feelings but I think it turned out nicely even though it’s not as Anna and Katherine centered as I meant it to be. It’s definitely filled with positivity and togetherness! Support your local mums.

They never really acted the precise, same way, none of them. But it was still evident enough to Katherine and Anna that all four of their fellow Queens were going through a very similar holiday-blues. It wasn't surprising, in the sense that all of the six grew a bit more sensitive around certain times of the year. Not just bank holidays. Their respective birth and death days, the birth and death days of their loved ones from before. All of it. There was hardly a month that didn't bring around some repressed baggage.

(Though, for Henry's death-day they usually went down to a nearby pub and toasted to a world without him in it. He was the exception to the rule.)

For Catalina, Anne, Jane, and Catherine the worse, or best, part was how child-centric a lot of Christmas seemed. All the toys and animated shop-windows. The decorated gingerbread and sugar cookies you could barely avoid. The movies. Santa Claus impersonators making little ones squeal and cry out in joy. Christmas isn't Christmas without children around, they've heard some people say. More than once. It took Kat and Anna a moment to realize how bitter-sweet the phrase echoed in their friend's ears as they grimaced. Putting on brave faces, all of them.

**_Catalina** had been granted the most years and celebrations with her daughter before they had been separated by Henry's order. But now, as December had just started, she wondered what this new type of holiday would be with her little Mary. How would the young woman she had barely seen her become feel about all of it? She had always had strong opinions but Catalina couldn't begin to imagine some of them these days.

Christmas still felt familiar in this century, yet so strange and different at the same time. It was a lot brighter, for once, all the lights decorating London's loud, busy streets. There were the much sweeter smell and those little markets offering all sorts of treats and trinkets that they had never known in their first lifetimes. Apart from mince pies of course – which had been Mary's favourite part of the holiday when she was a child. There was a lot of cheer conveyed through racy pop music and sentimental ballads. None of them sounded anything like the songs Catalina would hum to her. 

This new Christmas also seemed more stressful. The urge to get things done and finished before the year ended, buying enough presents for everyone, and sending cards to every single person you talked to in the last 258 days. To some Londoners, it seemed, Christmas was more of a chore than a celebration. Especially the ones that were neither very religious nor here for the comfort and fun of it. Their hectic discomfort projected onto those around them. But alas, Catalina had a long list to go through before the end of December came around. It hardly allowed her time to ponder the hypotheticals of having the centre of her heart right here in person.

She sighed. Leaning back into the cushions as another Christmas advert - during the break of Kat's current favourite show - ended. They tried to sell some kind of new car that looked just like all the others did. Closing her eyes Catalina imagined Mary complaining about the capitalism and greed behind some of these traditions and all of the advertisements. Catalina laughed an almost sad quiet huff. That sounded about right. Mary wouldn’t just accept any of this without giving it a good thought first. She was clever, though headstrong, and easy to get stuck in her beliefs. Catalina could just about imagine the heated discussions over a rich Christmas turkey. Her fellow Queen’s eager to engage as well. If only they knew Mary the way that she did. Before everything else. 

Katherine watched her predecessor for a moment, unsure if she should say anything as time passed; until there was the faint sparkle of a tear in her friend's eye. Kat switched seats to drop down next to Catalina on the wide sofa, their legs bumping into each other, just so Aragon would know that she was there.

“Pretty lame, those ads, huh?”

“Yes...”, the older one smiled and opened her eyes again, a single tear finding its path down her cheek before it was being wiped away quickly “Pretty lame.”

Maybe just someone dear being nearby and there would help her get over the grief of a family lost.

  
  


**_Anne** called Anna at half-past ten in the evening, only a week before Christmas, asking for her to come to pick her up at the top of regents street. She had gotten into a bit of a mess. A legal one at that.

“What do you mean arrested?”

“Uhm... how many interpretations are there? Can you just pick me up? I'll owe you! Just don't tell anyone, okay?”, the frustrated frown was evident enough in her voice. 

“Christ, Boleyn!”

But Anna had come, of course, without much further discussion. Because Anne was her friend and because Anne also wouldn't tell her why she had been arrested over the phone, and she really wanted to know. Like, really! 

At the very least there was no need to post bail; the department had let the brunette go with no more than a stern warning, which for once, Boleyn sheepishly accepted.

Anna turned towards her friend the very second that they sat down in her car; “So?”

“Huh?”

“What did they pick you up for? I’m not driving anywhere until you tell me.”

“Oh, you know... The usual”, Anne joked, a smug but practised grin flickering across her face.

“Treason?” Anna snickered, knowing fully well that her joke was a balancing act. She had a good feeling about it though.

“Shit, man, close! But no, actually, uh...”

Anna leaned in as Anne trailed off, looking for the right words outside the passenger-seat-window like they were somewhere buried in the snow next to the sidewalk. When she looked back at her, Anne held out her pinky.

“First you gotta swear you're not telling anyone else! I mean it, Cleves! Ehrenwort ¹ ?”

(Possibly the only german word Anne knew, meaning as much as 'word of honour' or 'cross my heart'!) 

“Ehrenwort!”

Anne shifted in her seat, wetting her lips, she wasn’t really sure what she was so nervous about, “I kinda got into a tiny little bit of a fight. Totally just verbal! Mostly...”

Silence.

“With who?”

“Santa.”

“Was²?”

“Santa.”

“Was?”

“I'm telling you! I fought Santa! And actually, I won too. Just FYI.”

“I heard you!”, Anna frowned in confusion.

“It was a mall Santa”, Anne clarified after almost a minute passed by, “Not one of the donation ones, I wouldn’t have kicked a donation Santa in the shin. Not that I _kicked_ any Santa.” 

“You...”

“He just really pissed me off”, Boleyn shrugged and slid down a little, balling up her fists at the memory, “he was handing out small presents to those kids, like some creepy saint, and that little girl really wanted a truck! But he didn't let her trade that stupid ugly babydoll! It wasn't fair at all! And her parents didn't do anything about it either, Anna! Come to think of it, I'm actually kind of a hero. Some might even call me Iconic!”

There weren't really enough moments in the world for the german queen to process what Anne was telling her. The mental image of a relatively short woman in space buns and heavy boots attacking an old man wasn't too far off, but it didn't sound like the situation had called for a fight that the police needed to break up later on.

“Did he let her in the end?”, she deadpanned, sounding more impressed than she wanted to – no need encouraging Anne for the future, really, “I mean, trade. Did the girl get the truck?”

“No”, Anne huffed and moved a stray streak of hair out of her sight, “but I just took it and gave it to her! So technically that might also be why Santa called the cops.”

Boleyn failed to tell how afterwards, she had taken the small baby doll and ripped it's head off to throw both parts at the Mall Santa in question. Anna didn't need to know that detail.

Maybe Anne had overreacted, just a little, but something inside her had snapped when the small child, all ginger curls and pigtails, pushed out her lip in a sad sulk. She couldn't stand it. So dropping everything and standing up for a girl against some old, misogynistic, sexist asshole Santa seemed like her only option. It wasn’t supposed to get physical. 

“Can't believe you got arrested to help some kid”, Anna teased and started the car, shaking her head in disbelief, “wish I could've seen it though.”

“Well, Santa was being a dick.”

“I'm not judging”, in all honesty, Anna was struggling between playing moral compass – since she was the only one here – and congratulating Anne, trying to ignore how fast her friend had seemingly gone off. It just happened to be a really entertaining story, as far as Anna was concerned. 

When she went to bed a bit later, Anne was still mad at that Santa. Had this been her daughter- Oh.

No, this had nothing to do with the icy pain this season had gifted her with. It was just a coincidence. The girl looked nothing like her own daughter. And still, she would have gotten her Elizabeth all the “boys toys” in the world if she had ever gotten the chance to. Lizzie was still so little when Henry had arrested his second wife and it had left the child with no one left to stand up for her the way that Anne would have.

When somebody knocked well past midnight and a familiar face pushed through the crack of her door, all hope that Anna wouldn't draw the same connection between her lashing out at Santa and her missing Elisabeth just a small extra amount this season seemed to be lost. Anne held her breath for a moment. Either way, Anna had given her word that she’d keep her mouth shut to the other queens.

“I just wanted to remind you that if you ever wanna talk about stuff we could do that, you know. Just… stuff.” 

Oh. She did know. But somehow the mortifying feeling of being known didn’t set in. Instead, Anne's shoulders relaxed and she let go of her breath. Anna wasn’t there to taunt or abuse the knowledge, she would never. 

“I know…”    
  
“Good. Cause there’s only so many Santas in this city”, Anna grinned and, “OW!”, a second later a pillow hit her right in the face. 

“Thank you”, Anne replied honestly as her friend let out a burst of snickering laughter. 

It was good to know she was there. 

**_Jane** smiled brightly at their Christmas tree. It stood proudly, a good bit taller than her, in the corner of the Queens shared living room. All decorated and sparkling with bright star-shaped fairy-lights. It was a little messy for her own taste, too many different colours too close to each other, and who had found and hung up these hot-dog and dinosaur ornaments? Was that a sandwich one near the bottom? 

But the tree showed off all of the signal colours from their stage costumes and that warm feeling they brought about was enough to excuse the flawful design.

It was only three more sleeps until Christmas and some of the tension from work and holiday-shopping was starting to finally ease up and she could relax her shoulders. Some presents had already found their way underneath the tree and Jane was more than sure she had made the right decisions in her choices. Her friends weren't that hard to shop for and she had colour-coded the boxes. Aside from that, Jane had started another little tradition. One that hadn't found its way under the tree just yet...

Walking around the little stores on the outskirts of London, searching for a first edition of the novel that Cathy's – so far – favourite Christmas movie was based on, Jane found herself taking a wrong turn, stepping through the wrong door. The shop, filled with warm light and the mild smell of candy canes, wasn't remarkably crowded or stuffy. Unlike other toy stores this time of year. Her feet carried Jane through the space without being told so and soon enough the third Queen of Henry VIII stopped in front of a couple of shelves filled with wooden sculptures and blocks. She weighed a little horse in her hands – just about big enough not to be a choking hazard for a small child. The saddle was painted in black with silver, ornamented snowflake details, making up the only part of the toy that had any colour.

“Lovely, isn't it?”, an elderly, white-haired woman in a green cotton dress stepped next to her and Jane almost dropped the Horse just then, barely able to catch it. The woman chuckled apologetically, briefly putting a hand on Jane's shoulder.

  
  


“It is”, Jane smiled quickly and turned towards the woman she'd seen behind the counter when she’d first stepped inside the store.

“These are all handmade and hand-painted. Not too small for a toddler or infant but with enough detail to still be interesting for an older child. Here”, she gently reached out for another figurine, “The little boy in a crown and cape is my favourite.”

Jane didn't really know what to say for a moment, slightly mesmerized, nodding before she eventually agreed, “they're all very precious. I haven’t seen such lovely craftsmanship in a long time.”

The lady hummed in acknowledgement, smile ever-present and gentle, “How old is your child? I mean, the one you're shopping for?”

“Edward is-”, the words were out before Jane could stop them, leaving her taken aback and startled. She hadn’t meant to bring him up, “he...”

She couldn't take back her son's name or explain the situation in all honesty. But there wasn't an exact answer to the question either. It hurt to think about it, whether the age she should give to avoid complications was when she died or he did. Both filled her with sorrow, knitting her eyebrows together. 

It seemed that the silence was answer enough. Jane felt the warm, grey hand of the old woman back on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“My sister lost a child some time ago. Johanna was sixteen and time may pass but it never really goes away does it? The pain”, she smiled and her gaze drifted off towards the window, “I forgot sometimes, when I was travelling I used to bring home souvenirs for my other nieces and nephews but she was never there to receive hers. It's not the same of course, but I have seen my sister grief.”

  
  


“I... I'm so sorry. I didn't want to bring anything up for you”, Jane turned towards her now, taking in the seasoned brown eyes and marks of life on her face. The kindness that radiated from the corners of her mouth pulled upwards, “I just... never get to spend much time with my son.”

The shop-owner hummed and nodded in understanding, “time can't decide how much it will hurt though, can it? It doesn't heal all wounds. Not in a parent's heart.”

Right. Sometimes Jane didn't feel like she had as much a right to be sad as the Queens who had gotten to know their children first and then been separated. No matter how often she claimed otherwise on stage. But Jane had no control over those feelings, Edward was every bit her hopes and dreams and love as Mary had been Catalina's. Her sweet little boy who never made it into adulthood. Her heart would never recover from the loss.

“You're right”, Jane smiled, “thank you. I didn't know I needed to hear this, especially now.”

“There you go. I'm glad to have been of any help”, she winked and held out her hand for the horse that Jane still clung to, “would you like a bag for that?”

“Oh”, the Queen looked down at the toy, “I don't- I didn't mean to buy anything. I mean, I don't really have anyone to give this to.”

“It's alright, dear, you can take it to remember your little boy. He doesn't need to hold, does he now, for it to hold sentimental value.”

Of course, she had brought the horse home. A symbol for the Christmases lost and the love they still shared. Jane smiled, thinking about the little toy in its gift-bag next to her nightstand. Ready to be put on display. The shop-owner was about to offer her an absolute discount but Jane had wanted to pay for it. It was the first time she had ever bought anything for Edward, even if she could never give it to him in person. She might go and take it to the memorial on Christmas-day, she thought.

Katherine watched her leave the present under the tree just as she came back from the kitchen with two steaming cups of cinnamon-and-apple-flavoured tea. A special holiday blend, apparently. It smelled pretty nice.

“Still hot”, she noted, handing an Elsa, from  _ frozen _ , themed mug over.

Jane gently blew on it while the younger of the two examined her new addition to the gifts.

“Who's that for?”, Kate squinted, trying to read the tag without stepping closer to the tree – a weak attempt to seem less interested than she really was, just in case it was for her.

“Edward”, Jane hid her smile inside the mug.

“Ed-... your Edward?”, Kat frowned, scrunching up her nose in confusion before regaining control over her face, “I mean. Yeah. Nice. That's cool. You do know he.. Uhm... can't pick it up though, right?”

“It's just a little reminder. Something I would've gotten him if I could have. Nothing big.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense... sorta.”

Jane laughed quietly, Kat didn't need to fully understand. All that mattered was that it was helping her through her own festive-low. Edward was still part of her and therefore her life. She would always be his mother. Jane had absolutely needed this confirmation.

  
  


**_Catherine** , it seemed, didn't really know what to do with herself. She enjoyed the holiday-cheers as much as the next person. The more or less religious traditions were most definitely designed to bring joy to those who celebrated and she liked some of them more so than others. But much like half the Queens before her, she had noticed, she struggled with the family side of this particular day coming up just tomorrow. She had tried to sit down and write about it, usually a fairly helpful way to understand feelings that she had no control over, a way to get it out of her system. But the grief was too much these days, it seemed. It just didn't fit on the endless numbers of digital pages.

  
  


She had spent more time as a stepmother to her friends' children, their cousins, and her late husbands than she had been a mother to her own bundle of surprise. She knew what she was looking forward to and what she was fearful of before Mary was even born. Had it all planned out in her mind – even with the dreadful risk of never seeing it. But they hadn't been granted much time together and now, being alive and well again, Catherine still did not even know as little as the fate that had befallen her child. Even Anna didn't know for sure where she had ended up or if she had lived beyond childhood at all. Sure, that left room for hope that Mary had a good life, a quiet and peaceful one – but it was so dim and small, Catherine barely counted the possibility.

She wasn't as romantic in her grief and memory as her sister in law, Jane, was, even though they had shared the same fate. And the cause of death. Catherine handled her grief differently and had long since worked through most of it.

She pushed the laptop further away from herself and stretched out her legs. Enough sorrow for one day. It didn't do her any good. Cathy just needed some distraction, focusing on the feeling didn't help her.

“Anyone up for game-night?”; she called out, letting the door to her room and office fall shut as she left, “I'm impartial to leaving the Grinch on in the background if it helps.”

“DID SOMEONE SAY GRINCH?”, Anne almost tripped over her own feet as she came running down the hallway, screaming.

“Oh my god, that movie is trash, Anne”, Anna noted loudly from somewhere over in the kitchen.

“Say that to my face!”, Catherine's startled expression turned into a snicker as she watched her friend continue to run in search of a confrontation.

This was exactly what she needed, the life around her, bustling and wild. Chaos always helped her put things into perspective. There was so much love in this house ever since they had all become friends, it felt more like a family than anything else Catherine had ever known – no matter how often she had been married!

“The love interest didn't need to be so conventionally hot and not-whoo like, it doesn't make any sense! Make all of them ugly or none! Also? They're terrible people! The dog is being constantly abused, it's-”

“First of all, the Grinch is the only actually believable character in any Christmas movie ever! And if you call his mums terrible one more time I can and will fight you!”

“Ha! I do  _ know _ that for a fact. But you wouldn't win!”

Parr outright giggled at the convo and finally followed Anne into the kitchen, “Didn't you say Home Alone is the 'best movie ever' last week?”

Anne stopped dead in her tracks. She did. She had really liked the whole home invasion and childhood-vigilante vibe.

“Loved that! But uh nothing can beat the polar express, don't care about your old people films”, Kat hummed and snatched a sugar cookie right out of her cousin's hand, “and you did tell me Gremlins was the real best movie of all time, Christmas or not, just yesterday. Make up your mind.”

“I-”, Anne was at a loss now, struggling to come to an actual conclusion of what her favourite film was. She didn't even point out how old Polar Express was!

  
  


“Well, personally, I'm still completely impartial to Jingle Jangle, the classics are nice, very romantic and all, but...”, Catharine shrugged, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh! Totes loved that'', Kat's eyes widened at the memory, sparkling as she squealed, “if I could only watch  _ one _ last Christmas movie ever in my life, like every day, that would be it. Most Christmas-y feelings ever! Super magical! It's a bop! What more do you want? Polar Express comes in second though”

Anna nodded in agreement, thinking back to a night of eggnog, gingerbread, and stollen³, “I thought it might be too much kitsch⁴ but it totally pulled me in too. I'd be so down to do a cover!”

“So Grinch first, then jin-”

“No”, the others made Anne stop simultaneously, causing her jaw to drop in full offence as silence took hold for just one long moment before the five of them broke out in laughter and further arguments. Catherine's heartfelt full, arguing with Anne and Kat about Gremlins and the Polar Express.

“Clearly”, Catalina squeezed past Cathy, she had heard it all from the living room, “you are all wrong. The best Christmas movie is Santa Clause 3.”

“What”, the others gasped and stared in blunt and absolute but simultaneous disbelief.

“Yikes”, Kath shrieked.

“That's a terrible movie”, Anna looked like she had bitten into a whole lemon and then squeezed it, quick to agree with her successor.

  
  


Anne pushed herself away from the kitchen counter, a look of pure terror on her face, “much as I crave a villain on Christmas, that's so not one of them”

“There's a villain?”

“Seriously? Have you even seen the movie!”

Cathy shook her head again, but at least they, well most of them, were on the same page with this one. She rolled her eyes and watched as the discussion picked up again. She would occasionally throw in a note about whether or not a storyline was believable and well written, as they were diving in deeper than first appearances and general joy. As far as distractions went, this was a pretty good one. The best to be honest.

The warmth that was pressed into their little London kitchen on the day before Christmas couldn't be compared to anything they had had in their previous lifetimes. Any of them. Catherine had missed out on and would always grief her first families, but this one right here and now was so much closer than anything she had experienced before. Maybe it was possible to feel both. The Love and the sadness of a holiday. Maybe next year Cathy would be able to talk about some of the complicated feelings that were plaguing her, once she found the right words. Everything in due time. Perhaps they could even share their individual experiences and feelings.

She caught Anna and Kat having a watchful eye on her, noticing that she wasn't all completely herself, perhaps. It made her smile. The two of them seemed to have been doing a lot of watching and distracting these last 23 days of December. Watching over their fellow queens.

Everyone handled things a little differently but they came together where it mattered, in their shared love and compassion for each other. The good, the bad, and the bank holidays. That is what truly matters on Christmas, isn't it? Being around people who look after you and that you want to look after as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Little german dictionary and guide to Anna: 
> 
> ¹ Ehrenwort: (Literally: honor-word) Word of Honor/cross my heart   
> ² Was: What  
> ³ Stollen: sweet german bread with raisins inside and icing sugar on top (only nice if homemade and fresh if you ask me)   
> ⁴ Kitch: Kitsch/kind of like campy or overdone cutesy, pretty / also overdone; near uncomfortable romance or wholesomeness… like a plate with the current Queen's face on it and golden flowers around the edges... (hard to explain… also might even be incorporated in the English language, I have no idea, sorry, I'm german, I don't know things...) 
> 
> ___
> 
> SO! My first time writing anything for SIX! How did y’all like it? I would be super grateful for any comments especially on character-portrayal and things you liked/didn’t like or would’ve wanted to read here… because I am thinking about writing a slightly longer AU… We’ll see tho!   
> Thanks for reading, hope you’re having a lovely holiday!


End file.
